Innocent
by Chiz
Summary: Twelve years alone listening to voices accusing you over and over isn't fun. This is how close our friend Padfoot actually came to insanity in his first few years in Azkaban... RR
1. Betrayal

A/N - The things you come up with when reading PoA for what must be the fifteenth time... well, at any rate, this is an angst story, my first story, actually, an angst that will be multi-chaptered. Does the title tell you who the main character is? Does the fact that it's set in Azkaban tell you, if you really had no clue whatsoever?...

Twelve years alone listening to hate-filled voices in your head isn't fun. This is how close Sirius Black actually came to insanity, despite knowing he was innocent.

Disclaimer - I own nothing. I don't even own a cell in Azkaban, let alone a wand or even a single brass Knut. I am SO disappointed. *Marauders sigh in temporary relief* Wait - I don't own anything YET... *wicked grin* *Marauders shriek in horror and run from the obsessed Author*

*~*~*

The house stood quiet, its windows dark and empty. For a brief instant only, they caught the bright gleam of the motorcyle's headlights before they were switched off. The motor's roar ceased, leaving the street once more in sleepy silence.

A young man, cloaked in black, hurriedly dismounted and ran up the steps to the house. He rapped urgently on the door.

No answer.

"Peter, open up, quick. It's just me, Sirius." He knocked again, this time in the code the two had formulated to help Peter distinguish an impostor from the real Sirius Black.

No answer.

Sirius felt his heart rise into his mouth. Peter had never before failed to answer the pass-code. He might have been paranoid about Voldemort's minions finding him, but he'd always answered before. Why did he not answer now? Was he out? No, Peter had known Sirius would be here tonight to check up on him. Was he asleep?

Glancing down the street, he withdrew his wands from his robes. "_Alohomora_!" he whispered.

The lock clicked open. Sirius swung the door open and advanced cautiously, wand still out.

The quiet ticking of the grandfather clock in the living room was the only sound.

"Wormtail?"

Again, no answer.

"_Lumos_," Sirius muttered, moving from the front hall to the kitchen, then the living room, the bedroom, the basement.

"Wormtail?" He called a little louder. "It's Padfoot; it's safe to come out -"

No answer.

Dread swept in and Sirius went cold. Where was Peter? If he wasn't here, where was he? There was no sign of a struggle, no sign of a quick escape. Nothing was out of place - and yet Peter was gone as though he'd never been.

A thought hit him like a ton of bricks. _No_, he thought, panic-stricken. _He wouldn't have. Pete's loyal - he wouldn't have betrayed them - he couldn't have! Could he?..._

Lily and James. If Peter was the spy - If he'd already gone to Voldemort - Lily and James were in mortal peril...

Sirius dashed out of the house, not bothering to lock back up. Time was of the essence. He had to get to Lily and James, before it was too late, he had to. Peter couldn't have been gone that long... 

He leapt aboard him motorcycle and gunned the motor. The bike roared to life and Sirius soared swiftly into the night sky.

*~*~*

Hagrid emerged from the ruins of the house in Godric's Hollow, carefully cradling a tiny bundle. The rumble of a motorcycle engine made him glance swiftly up.

Sirius landed hard and skidded to a stop in front of the ruined house. He stumbled off, eyes terrified. He didn't even appear to notice Hagrid with his small burden; he just stared at what was left of Lily and James' house in absolute horror. All colour drained from his face. "No!" he moaned, unable to take his eyes off the ruin. "This isn't happening - it can't be - oh god - James - Lily -" He overcame his immobility and dashed for the door. Sirius was about to enter when Hagrid's huge hand on his shoulder halted him. He whirled around.

"Hagrid! What's happened - what are you doing -"

"Yeh don' want ter go in there, Sirius," Hagrid said sharply. "It's not a pretty sight."

Sirius' face flushed with anger. "I don't care! Let me go! You're talking about Lily and James, I need to see -" He struggled in Hagrid's firm grip.

"You-Know-Who got 'em, Sirius. There's nothin' yeh can do - they're - they're dead." The giant's eyes were suspiciously wet, and he sniffled mightily.

All the fight seemed to go out of Sirius, and he would have fallen if Hagrid hadn't been holding him upright. He buried his white face in his hands. Sirius' whole body began shaking with silent grief.

"I know, it's bad. Who'da thought? Lily an' James, who'd want ter kill them, besides You-Know-Who, o'course? I'm sorry, they was me friends too. It's so hard ter think o' 'em gone. It can' be, was me thoughts when Dumbledore sen' me here. I don' want them ter be dead any more'n yeh, Sirius. I'm sorry...I know they was yer bes' friends...I'm so sorry..." Awkwardly, Hagrid attempted to comfort the distraught man, switching his small, precious bundle to his other arm as he patted Sirius on the back. Sirius continued sobbing, though tears would not come, his grief-stricken mind spinning with pain.

"Young Harry's still alive, though," Hagrid added after a moment.

Swiftly, Sirius' head came up. "What - you're joking - nothing could have survived an attack from Voldemort -" His voice shook.

Hagrid flinched at the name. "Sorry," Sirius apologized quickly. "I forgot -"

The giant waved away the apology. "Ferget it. But yeah, he's alive. Don' ask me how. You-Know-Who tried ter kill him - 'though, why a baby was a danger ter him's beyon' me - an' the curse bounced - bounced righ' back on You-Know-Who. You-Know-Who's gone now."

Sirius didn't register the information right away. What did it matter if Voldemort was gone if Lily and James were dead? But Harry -

"May I see Harry?" Sirius asked tremulously. He passed a hand over his wet eyes, roughly, trying to compose himself. He had to make sure his godson was OK...

Hagrid held out the small bundle that Sirius hadn't noticed before to the grieving man. Sirius took it tenderly, cradling the small boy close. He felt Harry shift in his arms.

Harry was awake, and when Sirius pulled back the blanket to see his face better, wide green eyes stared curiously up at him. Sirius had to bite his tongue to keep back the pain. Those were Lily's eyes, through and through, set in a babyish copy of James' face. A lightning-bolt cut, still fresh, marred his forehead - the remnants of the curse Voldemort had used against the baby, unsuccessfully. 

"Pa'foo'?" Harry said in a clear baby voice. He'd just learned to talk a few weeks before, and already he knew several simple words. "Pa'foo'." Harry reached up a small chubby hand and patted his godfather's cheek gently. Then a frown creased his face. "Ma?" he asked tremulously. "Da?"

Sirius' heart nearly broke at the plea in Harry's voice. How could he tell him - "They're gone," he whispered softly, holding the small boy tight. "Gone, Harry...I'm so sorry..."

Harry whimpered, and the grief-stricken young man loosened off his grip, realizing he was nearly strangling the baby. He wished he could cry - anything to unlock the pain that was suffocating him -

"Pa'foo'?" Harry repeated. He knew something was wrong, but he wasn't sure what.

"Where're you taking him to, Hagrid?" Sirius asked, suddenly realizing that this must be the reason Hagrid had rescued Harry. He attempted to ignore his godson's pleas.

"Dumbledore's orders. Her's ter be put with his aunt an' uncle."

"What!" Sirius was aghast. "Not Petunia and Vernon!" he groaned, holding Harry protectively. "He can't! They're the worst sort of Muggles you could ever find - Vol - You-Know-Who, sorry, could've cursed them into oblivion before they'd recognize magic." 

An idea occurred to him. "You could give Harry to me," he said, hoping. Raising Harry would be so much better than letting him go to the Dursleys and letting the last part of James and Lily slip away forever. "I'll look after him. I'm his godfather, you know. I promised to take care of him should anything ever happen. He'd be safe with me, I promise -"

But Hagrid was shaking his head. "Sorry, Sirius. I've got me orders. He's ter stay with his relatives."

"But that's not what James and Lily would have wanted - I'm all he has left of them, Hagrid - he's all I have left -"

"I'm really sorry. But tha's the way Dumbledore wants it, so tha's the way it's ter be," the giant said regretfully.

"You don't know those people - they're horrible! If Harry goes to him they'll treat him like slime, like a burden. Petunia hates - hated - Lily, she's not going to want to take in her son!" pleaded Sirius, clasping the baby closer. This could not be happening. He couldn't lose Harry. He couldn't. "He doesn't even know them - not that I'd ever want him to - I'm like a third parent to him, Hagrid - please, Hagrid - you heard him, Harry knows me. Don't take him away from me. He's like a son to me - I'd keep him safe..."

"Dumbledore'll sor' it out," Hagrid said, sounding unhappy. "I don' want him ter grow up with the Muggles either, but I trus' Dumbledore."

"We could talk to Dumbledore - maybe I could make him see -"

Hagrid was beginning to sound exasperated. "Dumbledore's given me me orders, I'm jus' follerin' them! I don' feel righ' about givin' him ter someone I don' know, but there 'tis. You bloody well know he's got his reasons,always does, Dumbledore, an' s'not fer us ter fathom 'em! An' he's expectin' me ter bring Harry ter him soon, an' I need ter be gettin' goin' or I'll be late!" Seeing Sirius' crestfallen expression, he added, "I can' tell yeh how sorry I am, Sirius."

The young man slumped further, feeling sick with grief and despair. His eyes were dark and lifeless, his voice hollow as he replied in a hopeless voice, "Then take Harry to Dumbledore - and take my motorcycle to get him there. It'll be faster. If it means Harry will be safe, then speed is of essence. Go on, take it. I don't think I'll be needing it anymore - Just let me say good-bye to Harry..." 

Hagrid nodded. "If tha's what yeh want."

Sirius lifted Harry to eyelevel. The boy stared earnestly back at him. "I'm gonna miss you, Harry," he murmured. "Don't let the Muggles get you down, OK? And try to remember uncle Padfoot."

"Pa'foo' go?" Harry asked worriedly.

"Yes, Harry. I've got to. I can't stay with you, much as I'd like to."

"No!" he said stubbornly.

"I have to, Harry. I'm sorry."

Harry threw his arms about Sirius' neck with amazing strength for one so young. "No. Pa'foo' 'tay. 'Tay." 

Sirius hadn't known Harry had grown so articulate. He let Harry's arms stay where they were for a moment more before gently disentangling the small boy. He cleared his throat huskily, blinked hard, and touched his lips to Harry's forehead before handing the boy gently back to Hagrid. "Be careful with him, OK? I'm going to stay here for awhile, there's something I have to do -"

Hagrid gave Sirius a sympathetic look, then tucked Harry carefully into a large sling across his chest and mounted Sirius' bike. "Thanks, Sirius. Yeh don' do anythin' stupid, now. I'll see yeh aroun'."

"No!" insisted Harry, struggling to sit up.

"Farewell, Harry," Sirius said again. "And Hagrid. I'll see you around some day..."

"Pa'foo'!" Harry cried out again before his small voice was drowned out by the roar of the motorbike's engine.

Sirius stood watching them dwindle in the night sky until they were barely more than a dot. He took a deep, steadying breath, then wheeled determinedly and strode into the ruins of his friends' house.

*~*~*


	2. Peter

Disclaimer - I own nothing. The Marauders hold me off with hexes and shields. I am getting depressed.

*~*

"_Lumos_," he muttered again, and the pale light of his wand bleakly illuminated the devastation around him. He'd entered the back way, thinking that if he'd been Lily or James, he would have fled to the opposite end of the house -

Sirius caught sight of a piece of robes from around the other side of the bookshelf that lay broken and seared on the singed carpet. Hurriedly, he picked his way through the mess.

Lily lay spread-eagled on the ground, face-up, her eyes wide, her face frozen in terror, and defiance. Brave to the end. Sirius felt sick again. She hadn't deserved such a cruel end - not Lily...

With trembling fingers, he shut her eyes, and composed her body into a less awkward position. There was still a faint trace of warmth left in her.

He'd been so close to saving them - if he'd come straightaway the moment he realized Peter was gone - he might have come in time - at least he could have died with them...

"I'm sorry, Lily," he choked out, clasping her cool hands in his. Sirius' whole body felt as cold as ice. "It's my fault for suggesting you use Peter. My fault, all of it. My fault you died. I'm so sorry..."

And still the tears would not fall.

With dread in his heart, he continued the search of the house.

Sirius found a pitifully huddled form in the remains of the living room. James lay on his stomach, wand still clenched in his hand. He dropped to his knees beside his friend's limp body, and carefully rolled him over.

The look in his best friend's dead eyes nearly made him scream.

He bit his lip hard to hold it back. The tears came now, with a vengeance. Cradling James' body, Sirius felt grief surge through him like a flood - grief, and rage. Sobbing with the heart-rending pain of losing two of his best friends, he wondered wildly: How could Peter have done such a thing - betrayed friends who'd trusted him implicitly, been responsible for the deaths of two people he'd known for so long a time? How?....

Sirius didn't know how much later it was when he found himself standing outside the Potters' house, holding his cloak around him in attempt to keep out the chill of the night, and perhaps in an even more futile attempt to keep out the chill in his soul. His mind was clearer now, and focussed on one thing: Peter was a two-faced cowardly snake. Peter would die for what he had done.

He knew that everyone who knew the Potters had had a Secret-Keeper thought that he, Sirius, was the one. Only James and Lily had known the truth. And now they were dead. Everyone believed that he, Sirius, was responsible for their deaths, and it was he they would come after. Running and hiding was useless. Better to meet his fate head-on, willingly. Better to deserve his sentence. It was very simple. He would kill Peter for what he had done. Then Sirius would be sent to Azkaban. Peter would not be able to hurt anyone else, and the Potters would be avenged. Sirius would serve time for something he felt was his fault, for even suggesting it in the first place.

But where would Peter go? Where could he be found? His old house wasn't safe - not with him knowing Sirius would be after him and out for vengeance. He could not stay with another Dark wizard - they would all hate him for being the cause, inadverdent maybe, but nonetheless the cause, of their master's downfall. Peter would want someone to look out for him - someone who could protect him, someone who trusted him still...

Remus.

Of course; that was it. Peter would go find Remus. The kind-hearted werewolf would take Peter in without hesitation, especially after Peter had filled his ears with convincing lies about Sirius' guilt. And, Sirius reasoned, Peter could always hope that if he, Sirius, did show up and catch him, Remus would attempt to reason it out, mediate, as he always had, thus giving the traitor time to conceive another escape.

Well, Sirius would just have to find Peter before he could get to Remus, that was all.

_Yeh don' do anythin' stupid now_. Hagrid's words admonished him again. Well, he wasn't doing anything stupid - he would be doing something that desperately needed to be done.

"If I'm going to end up in Azkaban," he told himself aloud, "I might as well deserve it."

*~*

Sirius was watching the long street that was the only approach to Remus' neighbourhood. After an hour or two of waiting and fruitless scanning of the area, he was beginning to wonder if he'd been mistaken. But where else would Peter have gone?

The street was beginning to fill up with Muggles, and Sirius began to despair of ever exacting his revenge.

And then, suddenly, he caught sight of the familiar mousy-blond head and stout form of Peter Pettigrew slinking through the crowd. He caught his breath in anticipation.

Wrath boiled in him. Sirius drew his wand and went after Peter, pushing through the crowd, heedless of who he knocked over. Now, Peter would pay for his treachery, for Lily and James' pointless deaths.

He caught up with Pettigrew, laid a hand on his shoulder and spun him around.

"Sirius..." squeaked Peter in dismay, watery ratlike eyes darting around. He was cornered. He could not get away easily. Which was exactly what Sirius wanted.

"You twisted, conniving, traitorous son of a -" breathed Sirius, barely able to stop shaking with rage. "It was you all along." His wand flicked up to Peter's face.

Peter flinched, then started sobbing loudly.

Taken aback, Sirius dropped his wand in surprise.

"You killed them!" he shrilled at the top of his lungs. "You killed them! Lily and James, Sirius! How could you? How _could_ you?!"

Sirius, enraged, raised his wand again, but not fast enough.

The street exploded in a mass of flame and smoke. Sirius could feel the heat strike him like a physical blow. For a stunned second, he wondered hazily if he'd lost control of the magic, like he used to before he went to Hogwarts - but this was not so. For a small, fat man, Peter moved with startling swiftness. He whipped his wand out from behind his back, and with a neat Severing Charm, sliced off his index finger with a small hiss of pain. And then smoke rolled in front of him and Sirius doubled over, coughing. When he recovered, Peter was gone.

Sirius stared in horror at the devastation on the street as the smoke and flames slowly dissipated, the screaming Muggles, the bodies crumpled lifeless along the whole length of the street. Blood was everywhere, the cement cracked and collapsed right down the middle. The smell of burned flesh hung in the air.

Where had Peter gotten so much _power_? 

Suddenly, the morbid humour of it struck Sirius. Peter had always been a poor wizard. When he'd gone over to the Dark side, Voldemort had obviously taught him a few tricks. But noone would ever believe Voldemort would want to use a weak, talentless thing like Peter. Noone would listen to Sirius, and the truth. The thing was, talented and clever as Sirius might be, he couldn't have blown up an entire street even if he'd wanted to. And the under achiever could. Their roles had been swithed unexpectedly and drastically.

Feeling slightly unhinged and light-headed at the unreality of this situation, Sirius began to laugh. He laughed to hold back his grief and bitter disappointment. He laughed, and the horrible, mirthless laughter sounded evil even to his own ears. Little Peter had been more clever than Sirius had given him credit for. Much more clever.

_Crack._

The sound of dozens of wizards and witches Apparating onto the street did not disturb him. _If I'm going to Azkaban, at least I know Pettigrew won't last long in this mess. Not with Voldemort gone. He's always needed someone else to look after him._

A mixture of Aurors, Hit Wizards, Magical Catastrophe officials, and Magical Law Enforcement committee members were spreading out across the street. Six cornered him, wands pointed at his heart.

"_Expelliarmus_!"

He stumbled, his laughter cut off abruptly as his wand flew out of his hand. This wouldn't do - he had to explain, tell the truth -

Ropes shot out of a wand and wrapped themselves tightly around him. Sirius overbalanced and fell to his knees. More rope came, gagging him.

_Oh, shit_, he thought bleakly.


	3. Azkaban

A/N - Again, long time no update. I apologize, but also remind you again: I warned you before that my updating skills are minimal.

Disclaimer - When Sirius gets out of Azkaban he can live at my house. The Ministry will never look for him here!

*~*

Sirius sat, bound, gagged, and wandless in the prow of a small, wildly rocking rowboat. A grim-faced, silent man rowed in distrustful silence, every now and then glancing at his passenger.

It was not only the erratic motion of the waves that was making Sirius feel sick, even though the sea was certainly a factor. Bartemius Crouch had given the order that forbade him a fair trial. _If only_, Sirius thought bitterly, _I'd been tried. I could have told the truth - maybe if I'd insisted being dosed with Veritaserum_... But he hadn't.

Ahead of him lay his fate. Behind him lay the world.

Throat tight, Sirius tried not to think. Though he was a brave enough man, the thought of what had brought him to this point made him weak with despair and even a touch of fear. The entire magical world thought he was a crazed mass-murderer. His best friend was dead, betrayed by another friend. His godson was in the care of the worst Muggles in England. His other close friend would never know the truth, and would try to push out his memory, even spurning him completely. He was completely alone.

Sirius stared over the edge of the boat into the pitch-black water. The spray was icy cold, but...the water itself looked almost...inviting. What point was there to living, after all, when everything he'd ever cared about was lost forever, torn into fragments by one bastard back-stabber?

He shuffled himself slightly to one side, pondering. Stand and throw himself overboard? Or just tumble out still sitting? Which way would be less likely to attract the attention of the ferryman in time?

Sirius stared dully into the water. Slowly, he felt himself leaning, leaning, ever so slowly over...From any point of view, death was definitely the most attractive option... The water was getting ever so slightly closer...If he fell now, he'd never be able to get himself free in time to swim to the surface...which would be nice...it meant he had no options once he'd decided...

A hand snatched at the back of his robes and heaved him upright. "Nice try, Master Black," sneered the ferryman. "You're going to Azkaban alive, whether you like it or not."

Sirius' lips compressed and his eyes closed. His suicide attempt hadn't worked. He doubted he'd get another one.

He didn't bother looking around. Sirius knew Azkaban was just ahead; he could literally feel the horror and despair rolling off it in suffocating waves, worse than that of the ocean. He swallowed, knowing that he'd much rather have committed himself to the deeps than to this horrible place. Sirius remembered too many stories of the wizard prison, and a seed of fear began sprouting within him as he realized he'd better fear for his sanity.

Sirius felt the boat scrape the rocky beach, an awful grinding sound that fell dully on the thick air. The man rowing him shoved him out of the boat. Sirius stumbled and fell, helpless in his bonds. His knees scraped as he scrabbled against the rocks. The ferryman pushed off, rowing hard for the mainland.

Slowly, he turned his head and looked out across the ocean, back the way he'd come. Far, far off, he could just barely make out the smudge of land against the horizon. Sirius breathed deeply, trying to memorize the look of the cloudy grey sky, the grey waves, the fresh smell of the salty air, and the cool wind caressing his face. It would probably be the last thing he would ever see of the real world. Against all his will, a tear slid down his face. _No, no, I won't stay, I can't - I'm innocent..._ a childish voice inside him pleaded.

Sirius was suddenly glad he'd landed on the beach on his knees, for in the next breath a darkness rolled over him, and he wondered if he'd gone blind. Then a long, sucking, rattling breath sounded to his right. Cold such as he'd never known existed washed over him like a tidal wave, and if he hadn't been down already, he would have fallen.

Dread swept in and Sirius went cold. _Where was Peter? If he wasn't here, where was he? There was no sign of a struggle, no sign of a quick escape. Nothing was out of place - and yet Peter was gone as though he'd never been..._

Sirius landed hard and skidded to a stop in front of the ruined house. He stumbled off, eyes terrified. He didn't even appear to notice Hagrid with his small burden; he just stared at what was left of Lily and James' house in absolute horror. All colour drained from his face. "No!" he moaned, unable to take his eyes off the ruin. "This isn't happening - it can't be - oh god - James - Lily..."

"Pa'foo'!" 

Lily lay spread-eagled on the ground, face-up, her eyes wide, her face frozen in terror, and defiance...

Sirius found a pitifully huddled form in the remains of the living room. James lay on his stomach, wand still clenched in his hand. He dropped to his knees beside his friend's limp body, and carefully rolled him over.

The look in his best friend's dead eyes nearly made him scream...

"You killed them!" he shrilled at the top of his lungs. "You killed them! Lily and James, Sirius! How could you? How could _you..."_

The street exploded in a mass of flame and smoke. Sirius could feel the heat strike him like a physical blow. For a stunned second, he wondered hazily if he'd lost control of the magic, like he used to before he went to Hogwarts - but this was not so. For a small, fat man, Peter moved with startling swiftness. He whipped his wand out from behind his back, and with a neat Severing Charm, sliced off his index finger _with a small hiss of pain. And then smoke rolled in front of him and Sirius doubled over, coughing. When he recovered, Peter was gone._

Sirius stared in horror at the devastation on the street as the smoke and flames slowly dissipated, the screaming Muggles, the bodies crumpled lifeless along the whole length of the street. Blood was everywhere, the cement cracked and collapsed right down the middle. The smell of burned flesh hung in the air...

White mists swirled in front of Sirius' eyes. "They're dead...yeh couldn'ta stopped it happ'nin'..." "Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?!" "Black gets no trial. His actions firmly establish him as the worst of criminals..." "You killed them!" Voices echoed in his head. He cried out in horror, clutching at his ears in a futile attempt to drive the sound out. Futile, because they were all in his head.

The Dementors had come for him.

Sirius could no longer see. He felt cold, clammy hands wrest him pitilessly to his feet and drag him away. Sirius stumbled over the myriads of rocks, feeling blood trickling down his now-battered legs, and unable to see the least thing. Sirius stumbled along with his warders, because there was no other action he could take. He no longer had a choice.

*~*


End file.
